Dead and Gone

my hair was shinier and actually looked thicker.
    I wasn’t surprised that people bought vampire blood on the black market. It did surprise me that people were foolish enough to trust the sellers when they said that the red stuff was actually genuine vampire blood. Often the vials contained TrueBlood, or pig’s blood, or even the Drainer’s own blood. If the purchaser did get genuine vampire blood, it was aged and might easily drive the consumer mad. I would never have gone to a Drainer to buy vampire blood. But now that I’d had it several times (and very fresh), I didn’t even need to use makeup base. My skin was flawless. Thanks, Eric!
    I don’t know why I bothered with being proud of myself, because no one was going to look at me twice when I was with Claude. He’s close to six feet tall, with rippling black hair and brown eyes, the physique of a stripper (six-pack abs and all), and the jaw and cheekbones of a Renaissance statue. Unfortunately, he has the personality of a statue, too.
    Today Claude was wearing khakis and a tight tank top under an open green silk shirt. He was playing with a pair of dark glasses. Though Claude’s facial expressions when he wasn’t “on” ranged from blank to sullen, today he actually seemed nervous. He scanned the food court area as if he suspected that someone had followed me, and he didn’t relax when I dropped into a chair at his table. He had a Chick-fil-A cup in front of him, but he hadn’t gotten anything to eat, so I didn’t, either.
    “Cousin,” he said, “are you well?” He didn’t even try to sound sincere, but at least he said the right words. Claude had gotten marginally more polite when I’d discovered my great-grandfather was his grandfather, but he’d never forget I was (mostly) human. Claude had as much contempt for humans as most fairies did, but he was definitely fond of bedding humans—as long as they had beard stubble.
    “Yes, thank you, Claude. It’s been a while.”
    “Since we met? Yes.” And that was just fine with him. “How can I help you? Oh, here comes Claudine.” He looked relieved.
    Claudine was wearing a brown suit with big gold buttons and a brown, cream, and tan striped blouse. She dressed very conservatively for work, and though the outfit was becoming, something about the cut made her look somewhat less slim, I noticed. She was Claude’s twin; there had been another sister, their triplet Claudette, but Claudette had been murdered. I guess if there are two remaining out of three, you call the living two “twins”? Claudine was as tall as Claude, and as she bent to kiss him on the cheek, their hair (exactly the same shade) mingled in a cascade of dark ripples. She kissed me, too. I wondered if all the fae are as into physical contact as the fairies are. My cousin had a trayful of food: French fries, chicken nuggets, some kind of dessert, a big sugary drink.
    “What kind of trouble is Niall in?” I asked, going directly to the point. “What kind of enemies does he have? Are they all actual fairies? Or are they some other kind of fae?”
    There was a moment of silence while Claudine and Claude noted my brisk mood. They weren’t at all surprised at my questions, which I thought was significant.
    “Our enemies are fairies,” Claudine said. “The other fae don’t mix in our politics, as a rule, though we’re all variations on the same theme—like pygmies, Caucasians, and Asians are variations on human beings.” She looked sad. “All of us are less than we used to be.” She tore open a ketchup package and squirted it all over her fries. She stuck three fries in her mouth at one time. Wow, hungry.
    “It would take hours to explain our whole lineage,” Claude said, but he wasn’t dismissing me. He was simply stating a fact. “We come from the line of fairies that claims kinship to the sky. Our grandfather, your great-grandfather, is one of the few surviving members of our royal family.”
    “He’s a prince,” I said, because that was one of the few facts I knew. Prince Charming. Prince Valiant. Prince of the City . The title carried a lot of weight.
    “Yes. There is another prince, Breandan.” Claude pronounced it “Bren-DAWN.” Diantha had mentioned Breandan. “He is the son of Niall’s older brother, Rogan. Rogan claimed kinship to the sea, and from there his influence spread to all bodies of water. Rogan recently has gone to the Summerlands.”
    “Dead,” Claudine translated before she took a